


i'm just a ghost

by hidefromeveryone



Series: Five Times He Relapsed and One Time He Didn't [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Panic Attacks, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 18:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8459092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hidefromeveryone/pseuds/hidefromeveryone
Summary: Everything was already fading around him as Mikey lost hold with reality, but with hands not his own he placed the bottle back into Gee’s backpack and climbed into his bunk where the sliding panel hid him from view. He couldn’t remember his name, his face, his mistakes. Mikey was becoming the nothing he was as he further dissociated from his body. Eventually, his being became fully severed, lost in time. 
Mikey battles with prescription drug abuse. With every relapse, the apologizes come forth for his brother and band mates. They always know that it is only a matter of time until it happens again.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suicider00m](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suicider00m/gifts).



> work title taken from "this is how i disappear" by my chemical romance.

“Fuck.” It was a simple whisper escaping into the night breeze, trailing away from Mikey’s small frame until it disappeared forever. He was propped against one of the tour bus’s large tires, the asphalt digging into his jeans and tearing apart his hands. Mikey couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Frank and Gerard were off drinking at a bar somewhere, avoiding their problems by indulging in their toxic reveries. He was pretty sure Ray had gone with them to ensure Frank wouldn’t come home at three a.m. with split knuckles or Gerard wouldn’t come off the high of alcohol wanting to throw himself off the nearest building. 

It was a curious thing how Mikey had gotten used to the feeling of choking on his own throat as his anxiety clawed open his esophagus and screamed into the dead of night. A slim silver moon painted his blood in a yellow light as his panic refused to subside. _They’re not coming back. You know they’re not. They hate you. You’re nothing to the band. You’ve always been nothing. Why would they ever want to be around you? Maybe you should just leave. They don’t need you._

“Shut up.” _Worthless._ “Shut up.” _Idiot._ “Shut up.” _Problem._ “Shut up.” _Fuck-up._ “Shut up.” _You’re nothing but a piece of shit, mikeyway._

“SHUT UP!” It was loud, abrupt, painful. Echoing throughout the empty parking lot. No one existed to hear him scream. Mikey was alone. _When haven’t you been alone?_

Shoving the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, Mikey ground away the last bits of starlight reflected in his tightly closed eyes as he shot to his feet, wobbling slightly as he struggled to catch his breath. It took him several tries to open the door, his vision blurring with unshed tears. _When did you start crying, fucker?_ Hollow boots stomped along the thin carpeted flooring of the bus as he stumbled towards the bathroom, which he locked himself into. 

Yanking open the cabinet door, Mikey grew increasingly frantic when he couldn’t find the Xanax’s bright orange bottle waiting for him. Heart racing, he paced around the small cubicle, ripping apart every surface as if the pills were purposefully hiding from him. 

_Gee took them remember? To keep you **safe**. We know that’s a lie, Mikey. He just wanted you to suffer._ Choking down sobs, Mikey exited the small room and knelt next to Gerard’s bunk, frantically digging through his brother’s belongings in search of his tried and true vice. When his hands closed around the orange cylinder he let himself cry, the tears blurring his vision as he backed up against the wall with his knees pulled into his chest. 

One. _Remember last time, Way?_ Two. _They were all so **disappointed** in you._ Three. _They finally realized just how shitty of a person you really are, mikeyway._ Four. _Well, except, they already knew that._ Five. _They’ve always known that._ Six. _This was just the last bit of proof they needed._ Seven. _You’re nothing but a failure._ Eight. _You’re ruining the band._

Everything was already fading around him as Mikey lost hold with reality, but with hands not his own he placed the bottle back into Gee’s backpack and climbed into his bunk where the sliding panel hid him from view. He couldn’t remember his name, his face, his mistakes. Mikey was becoming the nothing he was as he further dissociated from his body. Eventually, his being became fully severed, lost in time. 

_You can’t hide this from them, you know. They’ll find out. They’ll hate you even more._

Mikey drifted into an uneasy sleep. It was only when morning came, and the drugs still half in his system continued to dull every one of his senses, that Mikey began to come back to himself. He was lying on the dirty couch in the bus, covered in ratty blankets. The scent of bitter coffee flooded his nose, and dusty sunlight blinded his vision. With a groan, he buried his face in the folds of the couch’s fabric. 

“Mikey, oh my god, are you awake?” Gerard’s worried tone is quickly met with his concerned face popping into Mikey’s gaze, hazel eyes swimming with fear. “Oh god, I...I thought you were dead, Mikes.” At this Gerard started crying, and Frank swore quietly in the corner. Mikey distantly registered the sound of Frank’s fists slamming into a bus wall and Ray calming the shorter man down as Gerard was checking him over as if to ensure that Mikey was, in fact, alive if not well. 

_They hate you._ Mikey winced and Gerard’s eyes widened as he snapped his hand away from Mikey’s arm, believing he’d hurt him. 

“‘m sorry, Gee.” His words were slurred still. “Won’t do it ‘gain, promise.” Mikey found himself curling into a ball, his breathing picking up slightly as his nose began bleeding from the stress of it all. _Still faking it, aren’t you?_

A sigh escaped Gerard’s lips as he went to rub his brother’s back. It seemed as if he was hesitating to say something to Mikey, although any thought he had was cut short by Frank angrily placing himself on the coffee table by the couch and slamming his fists against his thighs. 

“That’s bullshit, Mikey, and you know it! You said that last time, and the time before that, and the time before that! If you were actually fucking trying to get better this wouldn’t keep happening like this! You’re supposed to fucking call us. We’re your family! Do you know what it’s like coming back to see you half-dead in your bunk, passed out cold and barely breathing? To worry every second of the day that you’re going to not be alive the next time I see you because you’ll have fucking killed yourself over this stupid hobby of yours! Cut the shit, Mikey, and get your act together.” Frank shot him a poisonous glare before launching himself from his precarious perch and pacing in untidy strides across the small area. 

Mikey hadn’t noticed how badly he was shaking and scratching at his arms until Ray carefully grabbed his hands and wrapped the younger up in his arms. His fro fell into Mikey’s mouth and may have choked him a bit, but he wasn’t about to complain. _Can’t even appreciate anything people do for you, can you? Fucking selfish prick._

“We just care about you, Mikey. And we want to make sure you’re alright. Gerard is going to keep your meds on him from now on, and we’ll only leave enough for one dose in the bus at any time so it’s there if you need it, not just want it, alright?” Mikey numbly nodded his head, and Ray went to calm down the seething Frank who seemed to be whisper shouting at the jammed toaster. 

“Mikes?” Gerard turned to face his little brother head on before he continued, biting his lip anxiously. “Why?” 

“Jus’...” _They won’t believe you. You don’t know anything. They don’t want you. They don’t love you. Stop trying to force yourself to be a part of their lives._ “It’s too much. Frnk and Ra’ and you were gone. ‘m nothin’. You don’ need me. ‘m worhtless. Disgustin’. ‘m bad, Gee.” Mikey’s buried face was incapable of seeing his brother and bandmates’ horrified reactions as he uttered another sentence. “Jus’ want to not exist, Gee.” 

_You’re a waste of space._

Mikey became engulfed in three sets of arms as he numbly sat in the middle of the tour bus. The wetness of his cheeks seemed to prove he was crying, but he couldn’t feel it. Muffled reassurances of love and worth and care came forth in hurried succession as his best friends tried their best to ensure Mikey just how valuable he was to them. _It’s all lies._

“Mikey?” Hesitant. 

“Gee?” Quiet.

“Please don’t do it again.”

“M’kay.”

_We both know that’s a lie, mikeyway._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from "honey, this mirror isn't big enough for the two of us" by my chemical romance.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @hidefromeveryone


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